A Thousand Cranes
by TensaiMan
Summary: Oneshot. If you had one wish, what would it be?


Disclaimer: I don't own Ragnarok Online.

A Thousand Cranes by TensaiMan

"You never know what you need...until you've found it."

"I see. Keep me updated on his condition. You know where I will be."

Atril Merothine turned around and walked towards the door and back into the hospital's white hallway, completely missing the priest's comments.

"Hmph." he muttered, "This is what happens if one is not competent enough."

The forty-year old Lord Knight leaned against the white, disinfected wall, feeling slightly vulnerable without his full battle armor. He usually wore it when going out, but since he had been in a hurry, he was stuck with his brown leather pants and plain white shirt, short silver hair still unkempt. One of his pupils had been injured during a practice session, and as master he felt responsible that he be given care.

That didn't mean that he had to stay longer than necessary.

His footsteps echoed down the long corridor as he walked, each boot hitting the polished floor in a steady rhythm. There were hardly any people in this part of the hospital. At most he saw various kafras appearing at the end of the hallway, going into rooms to attend to their charges.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

Atril turned to the source of the voice. A short blonde kafra was at his side, and she had seemingly bumped into him on the way out of a patient's door. The girl looked rather intimidated. The man inspired that in some people. His rigid chin, narrowed eyes, sharp nose and high cheekbones demanded respect.

"It's nothing." he replied in a monotone. And it was true. He hardly felt it. His lean and well-built body was trained to withstand even the mightiest of blows.

To this day, the knight could not say what made him do what he did next.

He looked past the kafra and into the room.

A woman was on the bed, in her twenties, perhaps, covered in a white sheet up to her waist, her upper body clad in a hospital gown. She had seated so that her back was at the wall, pinning her long red hair there. Her almond-shaped brown eyes sparkled, unlike most of the patients in the hospital, whose eyes lacked any hope.

But that was not what caught his attention.

He watched, slightly fascinated, as the girl slowly folded a piece of paper, twisting it into different forms, like clay. Smiling, she held up her finished work to the light coming from the nearby window, admiring it.

A crane.

"Oh."

Atril gulped quietly has he realized that the girl was looking at him.

"Please, do come in..." The voice was but a whisper, but the knight heard it as clear as day. If he could judge emotions better, he would have noticed the hidden plea for company.

It would be easy to turn away, he thought. But the crane...he was strangely curious about it.

Well, the knight thought to himself, I can spare a few more minutes.

Slowly, he took several steps forward, still unsure of his decision. It took a full thirty seconds before he was standing beside the lone bed, face still in a neutral expression, his dull blue eyes locked onto the wall beside him.

"Thank you..." the girl closed her eyes and smiled softly.

"Well..." Atril started to speak, unsure of how to say what he was about to say.

"You mean this?" The girl held up the crane in the palm of her hand, giving the knight a closer look of its contours. "I saw you staring at this."

"I...am simply curious." he replied, still uneasy. "I want to know how to make one."

The girl simply pursed her thin lips, and picked up a piece of paper laying by her blanket-covered feet.

"You make a square first..."

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Atril walked down the Pronteran street, clutching a brown parcel in his left hand. It had been three days since the event at the hospital.

And for the life of him, he still did not know why he cared about that little fact. Or what was driving him to return right now, and even bearing a small gift. He did not even bother to fetch his student yesterday from the hospital, so why this?

She had told him her name. Pia Dalien. She was in the hospital because she was paralyzed from the waist down due to an accident. Pia also said that hardly anyone from her family visits.

Personally, Atril did not care if anyone visited him, anywhere. But it seemed important to this woman.

The knight blinked as he realized he was already at the hospital doors, situated near the Pronteran Sanctuary.

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"Wow, thank you!" Pia radiated with pure joy upon opening Atril's gift to her. He watched her carefully extract a piece of paper from the pile.

"Well, I think it would be easier if you did not have to tear the paper. These square ones are easy to get."

The knight still stood beside the bed, to avoid getting too close to the girl. He was still a bit uncomfortable in her presence.

As the girl began to fold again, eyes shimmering, Atril noticed a small pile of paper cranes at his feet, hidden under the bed. Naturally, this puzzled him. Plus the fact that the cranes were in perfect rows, which he knew Pia could not do in her current state.

"Why so many?" he asked abruptly, placing a hand on his strong chin. "There must be at least sixty here."

"Oh." Pia stopped her folding and looked at the knight, still smiling.

"There's an old legend, that if someone makes a thousand cranes, the gods will grant you one wish...although, right now, I'm doing it for fun. I have the kafras arrange then and tell me how many I've made."

Atril grunted and looked up at the ceiling, closing his eyes. "It's probably not true."

"Well, no harm in trying, right?"

She does have a point, he thought. If I was bedridden, I would do anything for a chance to get well again.

"I'll help you then." he said suddenly, surprised by his own words.

Why did I say that, he thought. I stopped believing in miracles a long time ago. And I shouldn't be believing it now. But there was something about this girl...

"You would? That would be great!"

He lowered his head to speak once more, but the words froze in his lips. Pia was wearing a huge smile on her heart-shaped face, eyes glistening, her hands to her chest.

For a few minutes, neither said a word.

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Atril adjusted the final fold on his work, feeling proud of himself. He had learned fast, and was now mass-producing the cranes. A few days more, and they would have a thousand.

Not that he believed the legend, but Pia seemed to. And that made him happy.

Love was a foreign emotion to him. Abandoned by his parents when he was six, the man had spent years training in the sword; it kept his mind off how lonely he was. All the training paid off; even the gods themselves recognized his talent and allowed him to become a Lord Knight.

All that time he had turned a blind eye to everyone. He treated everyone with a tense politeness; sometimes he forgot the polite part altogether. He held all his men at arms length; drinking with them but not allowing them to know that much more about him.

Pia was different. She seemed to accept him for who he was. The other women whom he had some sort of relationship with always tried to change him. They forced him to attend social gatherings, try things he adamantly refused to even touch with his sword. Pia got him to talk without even trying.

She was simply being herself.

They talked about a lot of things while quietly folding the colored squares. Atril found out that Pia had a strange disease, where she could not breathe on a whim, her lungs feeling like a large hand was squeezing them. The girl never did so when he was with her. Nurses told him that they would panic everytime it happened.

A cure was being developed already. Pia told him that the doctors hoped to try it on her in a week. But that she had no real home to go back to. Her only surviving relative was her brother, who had died. Neighbors took care of her modest home.

The knight also told stories of his past. How he was forced to steal food as a child, the pieces of bread never truly satisfying him. Training everyday, even when others laughed at his efforts. How he passed the knight examination, and how he slowly worked his way up the ranks. The fateful day when he approached the gods, feeling true excitement for the first time.

Time flew as the two talked, hesitantly at first, but soon opening up. Atril never felt lighter in his entire life. He thought he could live alone, keeping everything inside. Pushing the world away. But talking to this girl, he felt glad that somebody would care enough to listen to him.

"How many do we have?"

"There are seven hunderd and twenty-one in the sack." Atril replied, gesturing to the loose cloth container sitting in the corner. The cranes were taking up too much space on the floor, so he had to place it somewhere.

Pia pointed to the cranes on her bed. "We have thirty more."

"Right."

The knight placed the birds inside the sack, being careful to set them down inside gently.

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Atril lowered his sword, breathing hard. His bright silver armor was craked in places, his red cape tattered. But he was still alive.

Monsters had unexpectedly attacked the city. Being a captain, he was ordered to mobilize his troops and defend the eastern gates.

He surveyed the damage the monsters had done. Thanks to his manuevers, none of his men had died, although many were injured. Priests began rushing to the scene to treat the knights. A lot of property damage was dealt, evidenced by how much debris from the nearby houses were lying on the street.

The silver-haired man sheathed his sword, the tension and adrenaline slowly draning from his body. Absently kicking the carcass of a Nightmare, he nodded to his second-in-command to handle it from here. He had to report to his commanding officer in the castle.

Despite being rather exhausted, Atril was keeping a good pace. He headed north. There wasn't much damage compared to where he was before. The houses were away from the gates, only reached by a few stray monsters who were dispatched quickly.

He silently wondered how Pia was doing. Yesterday they had finally reached nine hundred and ninety-nine. She promised that she would wait until he came in tomorrow before they made the last one.

The knight quickened his pace, hoping to be with her soon.

He immediately regretted it.

The hospital was in sight, and one side of it seemed damaged. To his horror, he realized that it was Pia's side.

Seemingly on their own will, his feet carried him to the front doors, his mind still in a daze. He ran through the opened front doors, weaving through the people inside to reach his destination.

Pia's room was empty, but her bed was overturned, cracks sporting the walls. Aside from the small debris all over the room, nothing else seemed out of place. The bag with the cranes was still lying on the same corner.

"Sir?"

His knees already weakening, he turned to the kafra that was addressing him. She apparently recognized him as she did not wait for a response.

"Miss Dalien was thrown off the bed due to the attack...and she had another fit. It's really serious this time...she may..." the girl seemed to choke on her words. Composing herself, she continued. "She is being treated...can you stay here, sir? I will inform you if she improves..."

The knight simply nodded numbly.

Ten minutes later, Atril had laid out all the cranes on the floor, brushing away debris with his gloved hand.

One wish...

He stared at the piece of paper in his hands, and began to fold it.

It was irony, he thought, that a man who had slain thousands of monsters could make something as delicate as a paper crane. Pia had mentioned this to him as well.

Pia...

If she...

His mind did not allow him to process the possibility. Normally he would be stoic at the idea of death, but this was different. Something was there that wasn't there before. And he did not mind one bit.

He finally realized what he needed most in the world. Something he lost, but found once again.

Atril lifted the finished crane to the light from the window, closed his eyes, and wished. 


End file.
